Escape
by Jet Engine
Summary: (Previously titled "On the Run") Our father was a great parent, until our mother passed away, and he started drinking... This is the story of me and my older brother, Skipper, as we fled from an abusive parent./ Genres: family, drama, angst, hurt/comfort, and adventure. Pripper brotherhood. HUMANIZED.
1. Chapter 1

**I tried to make the characters as realistic as possible, so the story would be easier to relate to.**

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**On the Run**

**Chapter 1: How It All Began**

I threw myself into my brother's arms, tears streaming down my cheeks. _How could this have happened?_ I thought.

Skipper held me tight and sighed. "What did he do, now?" he asked calmly.

Wait. I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning.

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My name is Bruno Anderson, but everyone calls me Private, because I used to keep to myself. I have short light brown hair that's parted in the middle and light blue eyes, as well as a British accent-despite having no British heritage that I know of. I am fourteen years old. I have an older brother, who's seventeen, named Dylan, but I call him Skipper, because he used to cut classes, every once in a while. Now, just about everyone calls him Skipper, but he doesn't seem to mind. He has black hair in a crew cut and dark blue eyes.

Our parents weren't so bad. Our mum was quite pretty. Her name was Alexandra, and she had long dark brown hair with bangs and blue eyes. She was a kindergarten teacher and would often treat Skipper and I like her students. I thought it was cute, but it annoyed my brother a good bit-not that he would tell her that. Our father's name was Hans, and he's a foreigner from Denmark, hence his Danish accent. He has black hair that's slightly spiked and bangs and amber eyes. He's a construction worker.

Everything was rather peaceful among my family, until that fateful day...

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My mum was driving me and Skipper home from our karate class. It rainy and dark out, so it was a bit difficult to see the road. That worried me, but Skipper said that Mum was a great driver, and that we'd be fine. Mum _was_ a great driver-that much was true-but we weren't fine. What came next happened so fast!

We were driving through the rain, when big truck crashed into the car! The front of the car practically squished my mum, and the glass from the windshield fell on her and cut her a lot. Some of it cut me and my brother, too, but not as badly as poor Mum. She was covered in blood and bits of car.

"M-Mum," I began shakily, "are-are you alright?"

No answer. I hugged my brother in fear, and he returned it. "Sh-she'll be alright, Private," he told, his voice wavering. He in drew in a shaky breath. "She'll be alright..."

I looked up at him, and saw tears streaming down his cheeks. Realization hit, and I started crying, too. At that moment, I discovered that Skipper wasn't trying to tell _me_ that Mum would be alright; He was trying to tell _himself_.

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Skipper and I spent the rest of the evening in the hospital. The doctors had put bandages on our wounds, and we were sitting together in the lobby, waiting for our father to come get us. One of the nurses came out and sat down next to us. We both knew her. Her name was Shawna Rogers. She long blond hair in a high ponytail and hazel eyes. She was a family friend.

Shawna looked at us solemnly. "Boys..." she trailed off, and I noticed tears forming in her eyes. "Your...your mother is..."

She didn't need to finish-we knew the answer right away. I plopped my face onto Skipper's shoulder as I burst into tears. Skipper embraced me. He didn't make any sounds, but I knew that he was trying to stay strong.

Shawna stood up, Dad ran in. We all looked at him, as he asked "how is she?"

I cried even harder into my brother's shoulder, and he held me tighter. I heard draw in a shaky breath and knew that he was crying, now.

"Oh no..." I heard Dad say. He where Shawna sat previously, and buried his head in his hands. "It can't be true..."

Everything went south, after the funeral...

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**It might take me awhile to update this story, so be patient and review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: Emotional chapter!**

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**Chapter 2: A Talk with Skipper**

About a week after Mum's funeral, I was having trouble sleeping. I couldn't stop thinking the accident. Moreover, after the funeral, Dad had been acting strange. He'd come home from work really late. When he returned, he'd look as though he had trouble walking. I'd try to ask him if he was alright, but he'd ignore me and go into his bedroom. One time I tried following him in, but Skipper stopped me, saying that we shouldn't disturb him.

I tip-toed out of my room, and headed for my brother's. I quietly opened the door and peered in the room. I rolled my eyes at what I saw-litter, clothes, books, and what not-all over the floor. _Does he _ever_ clean his room?_ I wondered.

I walked around the debris and up to a sleeping Skipper. "Skippa?" I whispered (my accent made all my "er's" sound like "a's"). No answer. "Skippa?"

"I'll cream you, Blowhole," he said in his sleep.

I laughed a little. Denis Blowhole was Skipper's rival in karate class. Denis was jealous of my brother, because Skipper was always better than him at karate, but just a little bit. Until that moment, I hadn't realized that Skipper dreamed about him!

"Wakey, wakey!" I sang.

He slowly sat up and looked at me. "Private?" He looked at the clock on his nightstand. It was 1:47. He turned on his lamp and returned his attention to me. "Can't sleep?" I shook my head. "Worried about Dad?" I nodded. He moved over and patted on his bed, signalling me to sit down, which I did. "What's on your mind, bro?"

I sighed. "Dad hasn't been himself, since Mum's passing," I told him.

"I know."

"He's been coming home late and walking funny."

"I know."

"And he's been so distant from us, as if he doesn't," I almost didn't want to say the next part, "want us around, anymore..." Skipper didn't say anything. "Skippa?"

He nodded. "I know." There was a pause, then my brother spoke. "Private, do you know why Dad's been acting so strange?" I shook my head. "Good. It's his own business. Listen, I know you're worried-I am, too-but worrying isn't going to anything. Our father is a good man. If he's acting like this, then he has a good reason. Everyone has a reason for doing what they do."

I smiled. "You're right, brotha." I was about leave, but then I saw something I hadn't noticed before. Something that worried me a good bit. "Skippa, you have a cut on your cheek!"

Skipper looked taken aback, but then he shrugged. "Shaving cut."

"That's ratha long for a shaving cut."

"Well, that's all it is," he assured me. "Nothing more than a mishap with a razor."

Normally, I would have accepted that answer. But I saw tears in my brother's eyes. "Skippa, what happened?" I asked gently.

"Nothing," was the answer.

"Skippa?"

"Nothing."

"Skippa?"

"Nothing, b*tch!" I gasped and fought against the lump forming in my throat. Skipper had _never _snapped at _anyone_, before! Especially not me... The anger in his eyes changed to sorrow, and he wiped away his tears. "I-I'm sorry, Private..."

"Why did you call me that?" I asked, not meeting my brother's gaze.

Skipper sighed. "I don't know..." A pause, and then, "It's not a shaving cut..."

_No kidding,_ I thought sarcastically, but I stopped myself from saying that. I looked at him. "Then, what happened?"

Skipper didn't answer right away. "Dad... He... H-he..." Another pause. Then, Skipper wiped away more tears. "I don't understand why..."

I didn't know what to say. Why would our own father have done something like that!?

Skipper closed his eyes. "Dad's been drinking." My heart stopped for a moment. "I can tell, because it shows in his actions, and I...caught him with a bottle, the other day." If I wasn't sitting down, probably would have fainted. "Drunk people can't think straight, that's why they do bad things. Physical wounds heal, Private."

"What about emotional wounds?" I asked.

"Emotional wounds..." he sighed, and I was worried he'd start crying, but he didn't. "Emotional wounds stick with you, forever."

I felt a bit dizzy, but shakily stood up. I was heading for the door, then I stopped and looked back at my brother. _Emotional wounds stick with you, forever._ Those were so full of despair, that I was surprised they came from _my_ brother! "What did Dad say to you, Skippa?"

Skipper didn't seem to hear me. Instead, I heard him say things that broke my heart. "I'm not fat. I'm not stupid. I'm not...I'm..." He burst into tears, and I knew that there was no way I'd be sleeping that night.

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**That last part (the stuff Hans called Skipper) made me a little sad, but review anyway!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning: This chapter contains dangerous levels of humanized lemurs. Read at your own risk.**

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**Chapter 3: Mort and Julien**

I was a zombie all day at school. After my "chat" with Skipper, I couldn't sleep at all. I fell asleep in history class and woke up to find a "do not disturb" sign on my desk. apparently, my teacher had put it there **(That actually happened to one of my classmates, in eighth grade! XD)**. So, basically, I had quite an embarrassing moment, I did.

I was relieved when lunch hour came. Not only was I starving (I had no appetite during breakfast), but I figured I'd be able to sleep without people getting mad (or putting signs next to me). I managed to eat a little of my fish fillet, but I still didn't feel much like eating. The time I spent with Skipper kept playing in mind over and over.

Luckily, I was distracted from it when my best friend, Mort Donaldson, skipped over and sat next to me, a huge salad on his cafeteria tray-he was a vegetarian. Mort had messy brown hair and huge brown eyes and a high-pitched voice. He was almost always cheery, but I think that's what I liked about him.

"Hello there, Private!" he greeted, smiling.

"Hi, Mort," I said half-heartedly.

Mort tilted his head. "Are you okay? Why did you fall asleep in history class?" I yawned. "You didn't sleep too good, last night?" I shook my head. "Why not?"

I shrugged. "It's not important."

Mort scoffed and crossed his arms. "And you wonder why they call you 'Private!'" he said in annoyance. "You are too closed off with things! I am your bestest friend! You should tell me what's wrong!"

I stared at him in surprise. It wasn't often that Mort would show emotions other than happiness or, occasionally, sadness. "W-well...I suppose there is something on my mind..."

Mort grinned and clapped his hands. "You're going to tell me! Yay!"

I glanced nervously from side to side, then told my friend about my conversation with Skipper, last night (leaving out the part with him crying-he had a reputation to keep). When I was finished, I sighed. "I don't know what to do."

Mort took a forkful of salad. His eyes lit up, suddenly, and he swallowed. "_I _know someone who can help! He's the smartest guy, _ever_!" He shot up. "I'll go get him. Wait here." He ran off and returned with a student much taller than us. The student had bleached-blond hair and hazel eyes. He wore a blue and white ball cap.

"Mort," I said facepalming, "Julien isn't smart!"

Julien gasped. "How daring of you! To say dat I am not smart! I AM DE SMARTEST GUY EVER!" Everyone stared at him, he blushed in embarrassment, and they returned to their business. Julien cleared his throat. "Eh, you were needing something, Mort?"

Mort nodded. "My friend, Private, needs some help. Could help him?"

Julien smiled. "But of course I can be assisting your buddy." He pushed Mort down and sat next to me. "Let's talk, Private."

I sighed. Julien was a sophomore who was conceded and rather selfish, yet my friend looked up to him-why that is, I'll never know. I felt bad for Julien, though. The poor fellow had ADHD, meaning that he was easily distracted and could be a bit dramatic at times. I knew it wasn't his fault, but I also knew that he wouldn't pay much attention to my problem.

Nevertheless, I tried to explain, anyway. "Well, Julien, it started when my motha-" But I was cut off.

"Hey, look!" the sophomore exclaimed, pointing a girl with long, dark brown hair in a braid and brown eyes, wearing an orange hoodie and carrying a brown paper bag. "It is being my girlfriend! HELLO, LADY, WHO'S NAME I HAVE FORGOTTEN!"

She looked at him, rolled her eyes, then sat next to my brother-her _real_ boyfriend. Her name was Marlene Baker. She was really nice and friendly, and I thought that her and Skipper made a nice couple. Julien, however, couldn't seem to wrap his mind around the fact that she wasn't his girlfriend-or that she was never interested.

Julien groaned. "_Women_. Who invented dem?" With that, he walked away.

Mort stood back up and ran in his direction, saying "coming, Julien!" I rolled my eyes and continued eating.

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**Tune in next time for...something... Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry I haven't been updating. I'm trying to rotate between this, my fanfic "Origin," and my Fictionpress story "It."**

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**Chapter 4: Guidance**

For my next period, I had study hall, still in the cafeteria. I tossed out my garbage, put my tray on the table near the kitchen (where the lunch ladies get them and wash them), and sat back down. I reached into my back pack, which was on the floor next to me, and pulled out the math worksheet I had to complete for homework.

Only, I couldn't concentrate. I was still thinking about my father, and Julien and Mort weren't much help at all (I know Julien had ADHD, but he still wasn't any brighter than Mort, who wasn't all that smart). I tried to work on my fractions, and soon found that Marlene was taking a seat next to me-she was in study hall, with me.

I gave her a forced smile, and she gave me a knowing look. "Skipper told me about your father," she said gently. "I'm really sorry."

I shrugged, not meeting her gaze. "It's nothing..." I said, not wanting her to worry.

I heard Marlene facepalm, and I looked up at her. "Private," she said, "you should tell the guidance counselor, or a teacher, or _someone_."

"_You_ know about it."

"_Yes_," Marlene rolled her eyes, "but I _also_ know that there are plenty of grown-ups in Manhattan who could help you and Skipper."

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The next morning, at school, Skipper and I went to visit the guidance counselor, like Marlene suggested (though Skipper was reluctant to do so). His name was Mr. Hobstin, but he prefered us all everyone to call him by his first name.

"Maurice?" I called, opening the door to the guidance office. "Are you here?"

"Come on in, fellas," he told us. We came into his office and he gestured to some chairs. "Have a seat." We sat down.

Maurice was a somewhat "larger" black man. He had short black hair and dark brown eyes. Everyone liked him, because he was always really friendly and smart. He always did what he could to solve your problems, no matter how complicated or bizarre.

Maurice sat in a bigger chair in front of us (he didn't have a desk) and smiled. "How may I help you?"

"I'll have a cheeseburger, small fries, and a large root beer," Skipper said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. I glared at him and he shrugged. "What? Phrasing the question like makes the man sound like the drive through window at McDonald's."

I facepalmed, but Maurice chuckled and rolled his eyes. "You make a good point there, Skipper." Maurice knew the names-and nicknames-of just about everyone in the school. "Anyway, you boys need somethin'?"

Skipper explained what was going on, starting with our mother's passing, and finishing with the scar on his cheek that was courtesy of our father. "So, that's why we came to you," he finished.

Maurice nodded. "First, I'm terribly sorry for the loss of your mother."

"Thank you," I said, quietly and solemnly. Skipper put his arm around me.

Maurice continued. "Second, this kind of thing is very common. When a person loses someone he loves, he'll be willin' to do just about anything to make the pain go away."

"But doesn't Dad understand how much this hurts us?" I asked, fighting the erdge to cry.

"Well, when a man's drunk, he doesn't have control over his actions. When he's sober-as in, not drunk- try talkin' to him. See if you can convince him to go into rehab to help with his addiction. If that doesn't work, come back, and we'll see what we can do."

"Thanks," Skipper said. He stood up. "Come on, Private."

I stood up, too. I said goodbye to Maurice, he said goodbye, as well, and we left.

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I threw myself into my brother's arms, tears streaming down my cheeks. _How could this have happened?_ I thought.

Skipper held me tight and sighed. "What did he do, now?" he asked calmly.

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***thinking of something creative to type* I got nothin'. Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Dear Guest,**

**STOP TELLING ME TO PUT IN KOWALSKI AND RIC****O! They _will_ be in the story, but probably somewhere towards the end!**

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**Chapter 5: What Happened Then and Next**

_*Flashback*_

_It was somewhere around 10:00. Skipper was in his bedroom, studying, and I was pacing in the living room, waiting for Dad to return home from work (or a bar, but I hoped it was work)._

_Soon, I heard Dad's car pull up. I took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing_, I thought._

_The front door opened, and Dad walked in, carrying an full bottle. Well, more like he stumbled in. I facepalmed. He was obviously drunk. How was I supposed to talk to him, like Maurice instructed?_

_He looked at me and gave me a dopey smile. "Hey, little fella," he said with a slurred form of speaking. Then he started laughing for some reason. "Ain't it past your bedtime?"_

_I gulped. "D-dad, are-are you...alright?"_

_"Never better!"_

_I knew he wouldn't be able to think straight, but I couldn't wait any longer! "Dad, um, I don't think...I don't think you should be d-drinking..."_

_He stared at me and tilted his head. "But it's so much fun!" He handed me the bottle. "Try some, kid!"_

_I gasped. Had he lost his mind? Then, I remembered that he wasn't thinking clearly. "I'd really ratha not..."_

_"Try some!"_

_"No!"_

_"It makes you all happy inside!"_

_"No, it doesn't!"_

_"Sure, it does!"_

_"NO, I DON'T WANT TO!" With that, I slapped the bottle out of his hand. I took one look at his drunk eyes and knew that I shouldn't have done that. He looked...hostile. Like he wasn't my father..._

_He grabbed my shoulders. "YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE DONE THAT!" He threw me against the wall._

_I my vision blurred from the tears forming in my eyes. "I'm sorry!"_

_Dad punched me, kicked me, said things I won't repeat. It was more than I could handle, and I was relieved-and worried-when my father fainted. I knew that was a side effect of alcohol, but it still frightened me._

_Soon, I saw Skipper run in. He took terrified look at Dad and asked "what in the name of apple cider happened in here?"_

_*End of Flashback*_

I wanted to stop crying, but I couldn't. I had never been through anything like that before!

"You'll be okay, little bro," Skipper cooed, stroking my messy hair. "You'll be okay."

"No, I won't!" I sobbed. "I'll _neva_ be okay!"

I felt my brother tense up. I looked up at him. He was looking at our unconscious father, his blue eyes tainted with hatred. "Private, pack your things. We're outta here."

My wet eyes widened in shock at Skipper's words. "Are you suggesting that we runaway!?"

"Would you rather be...tormented like that, again?" he asked, his voice breaking. I realised he was trying not to start crying in front of me. I shook my head. "Pack light. Only the assentials," he instructed. "We leave at dawn."

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**This chapter is actually a little shorter than the others, but oh well. Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning: Another emotional chapter.**

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**Chapter 6: Confessions**

Skipper dragged me into his room and slammed the door. I had never seen such a whirl of emotions in his eyes. In _anyone's _eyes, for that matter. There was anger, fear, sadness, slight panic. My brother may be hard to read, at times, but you could always look into his eyes and know how he was feeling._ And he was feeling._

He walked up to me and looked me square in the eye. "Here's what we'll do. First off, we'll need to-"

"Skippa," I interrupted, "I don't think we should do this."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well...can't we...do what Maurice told us, and talk to Dad when he's soba?" With that, Skipper did the last thing I expected. He _slapped_ me! In the _face_! I rubbed my now stinging cheek and swallowed the lump in my throat. "Why would you do that!?"

Skipper gasped, obviously realizing what he had just done. "I... I'm sorry. I don't know...what came over me..."

There was an awkward pause, neither of us meeting the other's gaze. Then, I broke the silence, still looking sadly at my feet. "Please answer my question."

"Which question?"

I looked up at him. "The one about Maurice."

"Oh." He cleared his throat. "I just don't, uh, th-think, um-"

"Are you...afraid, Skippa?" I clamped my hands against my mouth. _Damn, _I thought. _Why would I say that?_

I expected my brother to argue that he wasn't afraid of anything. Instead, he just sighed and turned around. "I am, Private. I am. Just a little, but I am afraid."

I wasn't quite sure how to react to this. Skipper would never admit that he was afraid. _Never_. After another pause, I slowly asked "why are you afraid, Skippa?"

He turned back around to face me, his blue eyes filled with tears. He wiped his eyes and answered. "I'm afraid that we'll _never_ catch him when he's sober. I'm afraid that we'll end up catching him drunk, and he'll hurt us, even more." A single tear rolled down his cheek. "What if I'm not with you, and he starts beating you? What if he's even more drunk than he was tonight, and he...he k-k..."

_Kills you? _I mentally finished his sentence as I wiped tears from my own eyes. I wrapped my arms around my brother. "That won't happen," I assured.

He hugged me back. His voice was barely audible. "You don't know that." I let go of him, and he wiped his eyes. For some reason, he smiled and rubbed my head until my hair was a big, brown mess. "I love you, little bro."

I smiled. "I love you, too."

He took a deep breath. "As previously stated, we'll leave at dawn. Pack light."

Nerves, once again, bubbled up in my stomach. "Are you _really_ sure about this, brotha? Isn't running away...against the law?"

He smirked. "So is skipping school, but that doesn't stop me from doing it."

On any other occasion, I would have laughed at Skipper's remark. "What about that police officer you've told me about?"

"Officer X?"

"Yes, him. Aren't you afraid he'll catch us?"

Skipper chuckled for the first time since our mother's passing. It wasn't very long or very loud, but it still spread a smile across my face. "Private," he said, "that man couldn't catch a cold if his life depended on it."

I laughed.

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**Skipper: You did _not_ just throw Officer X into the story.**

**Me: Please review! (Privaterookie24, your OC _will_ be introduced, eventually.)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Kowalski: When will Rico, Sonya (Meagan Snow's OC), and I be in this story?**

**Me: Soon.**

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**Chapter 7: Retreating**

_"PLEASE STOP!" I screamed, squeezing my eyes shut to keep the tears from pouring out._

_Skipper punched me in the face, again. "DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!"_

_"I thought we were brothas!" I sobbed. "How could you this to me!?"_

_He smiled wildly, and his blue eyes turned blood-red. "Because your a sh*tty little Brit, and because you're nothing to anyone."_

_I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I didn't know what was going on, but I knew I had to get away from it. Whatever it was._

_My father grabbed and pushed my back against the wall. Skipper slowly walked up to me, an enormous knife in his hands..._

"Private, wake up!" Skipper whispered. I bolted upright, breathing heavily. I flinched as Skipper gingerly rubbed my back. I looked at him, half-expecting to have my head cut off. My brother looked worried. "Are you okay? You were crying in your sleep."

I realized that my face was wet, though I wasn't sure if it was from tears or sweat or a mixture of the two (probably a mixture). I took a deep breath and slowly asked "Skippa, you'd...you'd neva want to hurt me...would you?"

He quickly pulled his hand off my back, looking shocked at my question. "Of course not! What the deuce could, _possibly_, make you think otherwise?"

I sighed with relief. "I suppose we should get going," I said as I got out of bed. I was wearing a navy blue T shirt and jeans. I had slept in my clothes, as Skipper had instructed, and my red back pack was on the ground nearby, filled with food, water, and a first-aid kit.

I put it on, and realized that my brother was already prepared. He was wearing a camouflage T shirt and dark jeans and a navy blue back pack. "Ready?" he asked.

I took a deep breath and nodded. _Good thing it's Saturday, _I thought. _At least we won't be skipping school because of this._

* * *

Skipper and I had managed to sneak out of the house, fairly easily, since Dad had gone to bed. We were walking down the side walk, when I asked "where exactly are we going, Skippa?"

"Marlene's," he answered bluntly.

I sort of expected him to say that, since him and Marlene were dating, but that didn't mean that I was comfortable with it. "Can't we go someplace else?"

Skipper groaned. "You're just saying that because Rookie has a thing for you."

I didn't tell him, but it was true. Rookie was Marlene's younger sister, who was the same age as me. And, yes, she _did_ have a crush on me. She was a nice girl, but I just didn't like her that way.

My brother stopped abruptly. "Why are we-" but I couldn't finish my question, because he clamped his hand onto my mouth and dragged me into the alley by the night club. We hid behind some trash cans and heard foot steps. Then, someone shined a flashlight into the alley.

We heard a gruff voice say "Anderson? I know you're back there. I can _smell_ trouble. And hormones."

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**Me: The first reviewer to figure out who found them gets a free Rico! *holds up Rico***

**Rico: Haga blaga! Haga blaga! (Put me down! Put me down!)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Me: A lot of you got the answer right, but only one of you got it right first. Congratulations, thankchaosforspellcheck****! Here's your free Rico!**

**Rico: *coughs up a smoke bomb, which goes off***

**Me: *coughs* Rico? Where'd you go?**

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**Chapter 8: Friends and Foes**

"Sk-Skippa?" I whispered to my brother, trying my best to remain calm. "Who is that?"

A bald black man in a blue police uniform and black sunglasses and a black go-T walked up to us. He shined his flashlight down on us and smirked. "Had a feeling it was you, Anderson. 'Course, I didn't expect you to have company."

Skipper and I stood up. I was shaking like a leaf, but my brother just smiled cooly at the man. "Nice to see you again, officer. How's work?"

The man got into Skipper's face and growled "you and your little escapes cost me my rank as lieutenant! Not to mention my dignity and, _once_, my go-T!"

"Your...go-T?" I asked, puzzled.

The officer looked at me. "It grew back," he said. He returned his attention to my brother. "Still, you've caused me a lot of humiliation, Anderson. Now, I'm _finally_ gonna turn you in."

Skipper grinned mischievously. "Oh, is that so?" He kicked the man in the groin, and the man yelped and collapsed. Skipper grabbed my arm and rushed me away.

"Skippa!" I said as we ran. "Who was that man!?"

"Officer X," he answered, not looking at me. "That's the police officer I've been telling you about. Don't worry, little bro. I won't let him hurt-" he was cut off by a rope being lassoed around us.

The roped tightened, but we somehow managed to stay standing. Officer X walked up to us. "Finally," he said, "after all this time, I've finally caught you, Anderson."

"Do what you want with me, X," Skipper said boldly, "but let my little brother go. The boy never did anything wrong in his life."

"Except," I stated, "for running away from home." Skipper groaned, and I could tell that I shouldn't have said that.

Officer X smiled deviously. "Couple of runaways, eh? Guess fugitive runs in the family. Now then, you two, I hope you're ready for some _X_-tra long time in juvy."

"Do I even have to mention the horrible 'X' puns?" Skipper asked sarcastically.

Suddenly, we heard a BONK, and Officer X fainted. We were both stunned, until we saw a girl standing behind him, holding a tree branch.

Her name was Sonya Rogers-Julien's older sister. She was a beautiful junior with soft amber eyes and long, curly, bleach-blond hair. Unlike her brother, she was always focused. She was wearing a white tank top, jean shorts, and white tennis shoes. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail.

Sonya took one look at us and scoffed. "I try sleeping in and what happens? I hear some commotion and decide to wake up. You two are lucky I did."

"Will you just untie us?" Skipper asked, impatiently.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever." When she finished untieing us, she asked "what happened, anyway?"

My brother glared at her. "None of your business," he told her. "All you need to know is that it involves our mother, alcohol, and the man you just KO'd."

Officer X groaned, starting to stand up, but Sonya whacked him with the branch, and he once again lost conciousness. She looked from me to my brother. "Rumor has it that you two are having some trouble with your ol' man. That true?"

"How did you know about that?" I asked.

"We go to public school." She shrugged. "Word gets around."

"Oh. Well, yes," I said sadly, "it is true."

"Anyway," Skipper looked blankly at her, "thanks for rescuing us. Now, if you'll excuse us, we need to head out."

Sonya tilted her head. "To where?"

"Classified."

"To Marlene Baker's house," I answered, then quickly received an annoyed glare from Skipper.

Sonya nodded. "I'll come with you. I've been needing to talk to that girl, anyway."

"We don't need any company," my brother argued.

Officer X started to wake up, so Sonya hit him in the head, again. I looked at Skipper with pleading eyes. "Skippa, please let her come. I hear she's _very_ street-smart."

Skipper looked at me, then he looked at Sonya and sighed. "Alright, you can come. But you better not cause us any trouble."

She rolled her eyes. "No promises."

* * *

**Still can't find Rico. :( Please review!**

**P.S. Sonya belongs to Meagan Snow.**


	9. Chapter 9

**I found Rico! He was hiding in the dynamite factory! *holds up a cage with Rico in it. Rico's mouth is duck-taped shut* Here you go, thankchaosforspellcheck****!**

**The title of this chapter belongs to "Austin and Ally."**

* * *

**Chapter 9: Girlfriends and Girl Friends**

We had finally arrived at Marlene's house. The sun was out, so I guessed that Marlene would be awake. At least, I hoped she would be.

Skipper rang the doorbell, and we waited. Soon enough, the door opened, and a girl about my age was standing sleepily in front of us. I tensed up. It was Rookie.

Technically, her name was Tori. She earned the nickname "Rookie" from mastering every video game she's ever played the first time she played it. She had short, brown hair that was messy from bed-head and blue-gray eyes.

She yawned, looked at me, Skipper, and Sonya and smiled, rubbing her eyes. "Uh, good morning," she greeted. "Isn't it a little early for a visit?"

"We need to speak with your sister," Sonya told her. "It's kind of important."

Rookie blinked. "Okay, come in." We walked into the living room, and Rookie closed the door. She yawned. "Since I'm up, I'll guess I'll start on breakfast. You guys eat?"

Skipper looked at her blankly. "Nope. Next question."

Rookie rolled her eyes and called, "Marlene! You have visitors!" She sniffed the air and grimaced. "And they have yet to shower!" She walked into the kitchen.

"Hey, guys." We turned our heads. Marlene had entered the room, looking exhausted. "Whatcha doing here?" she yawned.

I spoke. "You see, Marlene, Skippa and I have been-" I swallowed the lump in my throat "-having trouble with our...fatha..."

She nodded in understanding. "Skipper told me about that." She looked at my brother. "How's your cheek?"

Skipper shrugged. "At ease, baby. I don't notice the scar unless I look in a mirror or someone points it out."

She smiled slightly. "Well, at least it doesn't hurt."

"As Private was saying," my brother continued, "we've been having some 'family issues.' Long story short, it's become too much for the poor kid." I rolled my eyes. Skipper never wanted to admit to having weaknesses. Apparently, abuse counted as a weakness. "We request that you let us crash here, for a while."

"Wait a minute," Marlene said, looking astonished. "You mean you and Private ran away from home?" He nodded. "You realize that's illegal."

"You're boyfriend's skipped school, before," Rookie said, poking her head out of the kitchen. "What's stopping him from running away?"

"Rookie," Skipper groaned, "go be sarcastic somewhere else."

She shrugged. "Okay, but if you want pancakes, you're gonna have to be nicer." With that, she returned to her cooking.

"Time out," Sonya interjected. "You guys ain't the only runaways in the building." We looked at her. "I'm leavin' home, too, and I'm here for the same reason you guys are. My parents keep telling me to 'loosen up' and to not take life so seriously. Not to mention that my lil' bro's annoying as hell."

"Listen, you three," Marlene interrupted. "I'm not agreeing with the idea of you guys doing this. But I'll let you stay here for _a few_ days. My parents are on a business trip in Wisconsin, so their room's available. Plus, we've got a guest room. But you guys can't stay any longer than a few days."

"Thanks, darling," Skipper said, right before he kissed Marlene's cheek.

"Marlene," Rookie said, reappearing, "when you let your boyfriend stay here, he'll want to sleep in your room with you. When he sleeps in your room with you, he'll take off all his clothes. When he takes off all his clothes, _you'll_ take off all _your_ clothes. When you take off all your clothes-"

"ROOKIE!" Skipper and Marlene shouted, blushing.

Sonya rolled her eyes, and I struggled to hold back my laughter. Rookie looked at me then looked at her feet, blushing. "I've got a million of 'em," she said, quickly retreating back into the kitchen.

Sonya grabbed the TV remote and sat down on the couch. "Might as well see what's on." She turned on the TV.

The news came on, and a man with gray hair and a dark gray business suit appeared on it, holding a microphone. "This is Chuck Charles," he said into the camera, "live at the scene of a devastating car wreck. Not long ago, this red Chevy behind me crashed into a Pepsi truck. Ironically, this was the same driver who drove this very same truck into a car, killing a woman and injuring her two sons a few months ago. Even more ironically, our sources tell us that the man who was killed in the wreck was the woman's husband. Seriously, folks, can this story get anymore ironic? This has been Chuck Charles and, like the ninja," he went into a ninja-stance, "I vanish as suddenly as I appear." He clapped his hands and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

A man in a blue suit walked into the scene and picked up the microphone Chuck had dropped. He looked up at the sky. "These microphones cost money, Chuck!" he shouted, angrily.

The reply came from seemingly nowhere. "I am the ninja! Hi-ya-ha!"

Sonya turned off the TV, and everyone was silent. I felt hot tears forming in my eyes. Dad was...gone...

* * *

**Oh no... Poor Skipper and Private. :( Rookie belongs to Privaterookie24. The ninja scene is from the PoM episode "Private and the Winky Factory."**

**As always, Please review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**The title of this chapter belongs to my favorite band-Evanescence.**

* * *

**Chapter 10: The Change**

Rookie walked in. She had obviously heard what the newsman said, because she said to me and Skipper "Uh... You don't...know if it's him..."

"Yeah..." Marlene agreed awkwardly. "It could be...well...anyone..."

I looked up at Skipper, hoping that he would tell me that it was someone else. My heart broke when I saw his eyes filled with tears. "You all don't have to pretend," he said, a tear sliding down his scar. He looked at his feet. "We...we all know who it is."

I dropped to my knees and sobbed into my hands. I felt someone pat my back and looked up, expecting to see Skipper kneeling down next to me. Instead, I saw Rookie looking at me, her lips curled into a sad smile.

She helped me back up. "It'll be okay," she assured.

"Okay? Okay!?" I snapped. "HOW CAN IT BE OKAY, WHEN I HAVE NO PARENTS!?"

"Private, calm down," Skipper soothed, kneeling down beside me. "Getting worked up won't bring him or Mom back."

Marlene knelt down as well. "Maybe I can ask my parents about letting you guys live here, until you figure something out."

Rookie smiled mischievously at her sister. "When you take off your clothes-"

"ROOKIE!" Skipper and Marlene shouted simultaneously.

I laughed again, and Rookie smiled and continued. "When you take off your clothes, you sleep together. When you sleep together, you realize he wasn't using protection." Skipper and Marlene glared at her. They looked ready to say something, but then they saw me laughing and smiled a little as the story continued. Rookie started laughing with me. "When-when you realize he-wasn't using p-protection, you-you-hahaha!" She was cut-off by her own laughter.

When I stopped laughing, I realized that Sonya was being strangely quiet. I noticed a guilty look in her amber eyes. "Sonya," I said, a bit worried, "are you alright?"

Sonya glared at me, and I gulped. Then she sighed. "I'm going home. You boys made me realize...I should be glad to have a family." She shrugged. "Even if they are a bunch of freaks."

We stood up. Marlene put an arm around her. "Very true, Sonya."

"Besides," Sonya continued, smiling, "who else is gonna make sure Julien takes his ADHD-medicine-stuff? My parents? They're a little forgetful." She walked to the door and opened it. "See you all in school," she said before walking out and slamming the door shut.

I swallowed the lump that was returning to my throat. "At least she _has_ a family..." I said sadly. Tears formed in my eyes as I looked up at my brother. "He was probably looking for us."

"You still have your brother," Marlene reminded me. I think I was the only one who saw Skipper flinch at the word "brother."

I ignored it and responded with a slight smile. "That's true." I wrapped my arms around Skipper. "Not everyone has a brotha like mine."

"Uh, Private," he said nervously, "can I...can I talk to you...in private?"

I let go of him, confused. "Okay...?"

We walked into Marlene's bedroom, and Skipper closed the door, looking nervous. I tilted my head in confusion. _What's the matta? _I thought. _Skippa's had private talks with me before. What makes this different?_

He took a deep breath. "Bruno..."

I gulped. Skipper never called me by my _real_ name unless he was being absolutely serious with me. "Y-yes?"

He took another deep breath. "Um... I-I...I wasn't really...planning on s-saying this, but, um..."

"Skippa, if it's hard to say, then say it fast."

"Okay, um..." He cleared his throat. He spoke too quickly for me to understand. "YouandIarentreallyrelated."

I blinked. "Could you say that a bit slowa?"

"You... And... I-"

"Skippa!"

"Alright, fine. Private," he gently put his hand on my shoulder, looking a bit somber, "you and I aren't really related."

* * *

**Dun dun DUN. Please review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Johnson has been feminized due to the fact that the story wouldn't make as much sense if both Manfredi _and_ Johnson were men.**

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**Chapter 11: A Brotherly Bond**

I stared at him in disbelief. We weren't related? How was that possible!? "What...what do you mean...?"

He took his hand off of my shoulder and rubbed the back of his neck with it, looking rather uncomfortable. "Well... Do you remember when I told you about my 'pen pal?'" he asked.

I was a bit puzzled as to why he put air quotes around the words "pen pal." "Do you mean Manfredi Johnson, Skippa?"

He nodded. "Yes. Manfredi Johnson." He twiddled his thumbs. "But, um, the truth is that Manfredi Johnson is actually Manfredi Helston and Bethany Johnson. A couple of vacationers from London. AKA, your _real_ parents."

I gaped at him. That explained my British accent, but how could I not have known about them?

Skipper continued. "I was too young to have remembered it when it happened, so I can only tell you what Mom told me. Well, _my_ mom, anyway."

"What did she tell you?" I asked, giving him my undivided attention.

"That your parents obviously didn't know anything about child care. They tried to take you to some damn club, but the bouncer, of course, told them you were underaged." He shrugged. "Makes sense, since you were a baby at the time."

"So what happened?"

"They told the bouncer to watch you while they were inside, so he did. Mom asked why he was watching you, and he explained what those morons did. Mom was disgusted and asked if she could watch you. She mentioned hearing to gun shots, she and the bouncer ran in the building to find the two of them dead."

I gasped, tears stinging my eyes. "They...were...k-killed!?"

Skipper slowly nodded, a solemn look in his eyes. "Probably by some drunk son of a b*tch."

We were both silent for a while, then I asked "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I figured you'd feel better if you knew that _my_ parents were the ones in the car wrecks." I glared at him. "Does seem like a pretty bad idea, now that I've said aloud." He laughed sheepishly.

I snapped. "Of course it was a bad idea! First, the woman I thought was my motha died! Then, the man I thought was my fatha died! Now, you tell me that my real parents were killed when I was an infant!?"

"I...I..." Skipper obviously didn't know what to say.

I burst into tears, and hugged me. I looked up his blurry image. "How many more lies are there, Skippa?"

Skipper sighed. "I think that's all of them... Other than the fact that I used your toothbrush, once."

If I wasn't feeling so betrayed, I probably would have been disgusted by that last statement. "What does it matta?" I asked, burying my face into his shirt. "We aren't brothas."

Skipper pushed me gently and looked me in the eye. His voice was firm. "Private, I never want to hear you say that to again."

"But it's true!"

"No, it isn't." Then he spoke gently. "Private, I love you. We may not be blood-related, but we're still brothers. A brother isn't someone your related to. It's someone who's always there for you. Someone who cares, no matter what. Who dries your tears when you cry and obliterates the person who made you cry. Who stands up for you, even when the odds are against you."

I smiled, wiping my eyes on my arm. "You're right, Skippa."

He ruffled my hair. "'Course I am." He opened the door behind him. "Come on, bro. Let's let Marlene and Rookie know you're alright."

"Skippa?"

"Hm?"

"It's just that I've neva seen you be this warm-hearted towards anyone. Not even Marlene, and she's your girlfriend."

Skipper smiled. "Brothers have a special kind of bond, Young Private, whether they choose to admit it or not."

* * *

**Aww! Brotherly love! Please review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Yay! I'm back!**

* * *

**Chapter 12: Heading Home**

Skipper and I returned to the girls' living room. I was still a bit upset, but my talk with Skipper, surprisingly, made me feel a little better.

Marlene looked at me, seeming concerned. "Are you okay, Private?"

I nodded. "A little bit, Marlene."

She smiled. "Good to hear."

I turned to my brother. "So, um, what do we do, now?"

Skipper sighed then put on his back pack, which was lying on the floor next to mine. "Guess there's nothing left to do, except head back home."

"But our parents are... You know..."

He stared at his feet. "I know. But what else can we do?"

Marlene came over and pecked him on his unharmed cheek. "You can stay here for a while."

Rookie called from the kitchen "When you realize he wasn't using protection, _someone _becomes a teen mom!"

Marlene turned to the kitchen, looking rather annoyed. "Oh, shut up, Rookie!" She returned her attention to Skipper. "Anyway, you're welcome to stay here."

"Thank you, dollface," Skipper said, "But my place is gonna need someone living in it. Besides," he looked at me sadly, "someone's gotta be the father to the boy. And, Marlene, I'm determined to be that somebody."

"That's really sweet of you." She pulled us into a group hug. "If you guys ever need anything, you know where to find me."

"And me, too." We stopped hugging and looked at Rookie, who had exited the kitchen. "If you boys are leaving, you're gonna need some food. Now, who likes pancakes?"

* * *

We said goodbye to the girls and walked out of their house. We walked back to our house in silence, for a little while, then I broke the silence. "Skippa? Do you think we'll be able to support each other?"

He didn't take his eyes off the path ahead. "Each other? Private, you're not old enough to work."

"Surely I could do _something_."

He smiled a little. "I appreciate that, Young Private, but I'm the older sibling. It's _my_ job to look after _you_. It's not the other way around."

"But Skippa-"

"What did I just say?"

I sighed, rolling my eyes. I changed the subject, but not to something much better. "Brotha? Remember when you slapped me a few days ago?"

He didn't answer right away. "Do I have to?"

"I just wanted to know why you did that. It's been bothering me a good bit."

Skipper looked guilty, which was something I wasn't quite used to. "I'm sorry, Private."

I nodded. "I know, Skippa. I just want to know _why_ you did that."

"That's what I'm sorry for. I _don't_ know why I did that!"

"How can you not know?"

"I just don't!" There was an awkward pause, then my brother spoke sadly. "I did a report on child abuse in ninth grade."

"I remember that," I told him. "So?"

"So during my research for my report, I learned a few things."

"Such as?" I asked, feeling a mixture of nervousness and curiosity.

"The effects of abuse. Fear, anger, depression, nightmares; Those are just a few signs."

I shivered, remembering my nightmare from last night. "I had a nightmare last night."

He nodded. "I know. I may not know what it was about, but I do know it was caused by abuse. Private, I promise that I'll never let anyone hurt you, again."

We felt a hand on each of our shoulders. "Speakin' of nightmares," a voice said from behind us, "the one I'm about to give you is quite _X_-treme."

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**This can only mean one thing... I have finished this chapter with *dramatic pause* a CLIFFHANGER! Please review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**I can't think of anything clever to type. :(**

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**Chapter 13: The Escape**

"That voice. That awful pun," Skipper said to no one in particular. "I'd recognize them _anywhere_..."

We turned around and saw a man standing behind us, an evil smile stretched across his face. I gasped. "It's Officer X!"

"That's right," X said. He grabbed us by our wrists. He looked at Skipper. "Finally! I'll _finally _get my revenge on you, Anderson!"

My brother growled at him. "You'll _never_ take us alive!"

"Don't give me any ideas."

I gulped. "Please don't hurt us!"

"Didn't I just say not to give me any ideas!?" The officer slapped me.

Skipper gasped, and he glared at Officer X, his blue eyes glazed with fury. He spoke through gritted teeth. "You. Should not. Have done that."

Officer X laughed. "What do you plan to do about it?" Skipper kicked him in the groin. X yelped and collapsed.

My brother grabbed my arm. "Move, move, MOVE!" he ordered as he yanked me away from the officer.

We ran. I didn't know where we were going. I just wanted to get away from that horrible man, and I could tell Skipper felt the same way.

"Skipper!? What if he catches us!?" I asked, panicked.

"If that happens," he answered, "and that's a _big_ if, I won't let him lay a finger on you!"

I heard Officer X behind us. "You can't run, forever!"

He was right. We ended up crashing into someone and plummeting to the ground. We looked up at the person on the ground in front of us. It was a woman, probably in her thirties, wearing a zoo keeper uniform. She had red hair that was tucked underneath her hat and brown eyes.

"What in the world!?" she exclaimed, rubbing her head.

"Sorry!" I quickly apologized.

Skipper and I hastily stood up, but we weren't quick enough in fleeing. Officer X forcefully wrapped his arms around our chests. We struggled to escape, but the man was too strong.

"I knew I'd catch you boys!" he snarled. "Now, you runaways are comin' with me."

The woman stood up and said "Woah, woah, woah! Time out! What's going on, here?"

X faced her calmly, tightening his grip on us. "Ma'am, these two teenagers have runaway from their home. As a police officer, it is my duty to make sure that they never do something like that, again."

"Ran away from home, you say?" she asked slyly. Her gaze hardened. "You seem to be mistaken. These boys live with me and two other kids at the Manhattan Orphanage!"

"No, ma'am. I'm afraid you're the one who's mis-"

Officer X was cut off by the woman pulling me and Skipper away from him. I looked at my brother and realized that he was just as confused as I was.

X glared at her. "Now, listen here-"

"No, _you_ listen!" she spat at him. "You call yourself and officer, and yet you'd _dare_ harm two _orphaned_ citizens!?" She tapped her chin. "I wonder what your co-workers would think..."

X gulped. "Uh, s-sorry for the confusion, ma'am, boys." He ran away, and me and Skipper laughed.

We looked up at the woman. "Thank you, ma'am," I said, smiling.

She shrugged. "Hey, as long as you boys head back home-"

"But we can't!" I said, cutting her off. My voice cracked as tears blurred my vision. "We really _are _ orphaned!"

I cried into my brother's shirt, as he explained who we were and what had been happening to us.

I felt someone pat my head, and I looked up to see that it was the woman. She looked at me with gentle eyes. "Don't cry, little fella. Why don't you and your big brother come with me? I think I might have a solution."

"W-what do mean?" I sniffled.

"Well, if you boys don't have parents, then why not come live with the other kids who don't?"

Skipper let go of me. "Are you suggesting that we live at the orphanage?"

She smiled. "There are some spare rooms, there. By the way, I'm Alice. Alice Benson."

I recognized the name. "Are you that grumpy zoo keeper at the Central Park Zoo?"

"Technically, yes," Alice chuckled. "But after that ridiculous job, I'm actually-you know-happy."

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**Please review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Almost finished...**

* * *

**Chapter 14: A New Family**

Alice drove us back to our house, and we got our belongings. (Skipper used one of Alice's bobby pins to pick the lock.) Afterwards, she drove us to the Manhattan Orphanage. It was a tall, wooden structure that looked pretty old. I questioned Alice about the age, and she said it was probably from the 1940s.

"I still don't know about this," Skipper said when we walked up to the front door.

Alice smiled. "Don't worry. These other little squirts ain't so bad." She opened the door and we walked in.. "I'll get your things. You two can mingle with the others." She cupped her hands around her mouth. "Kowalski! Rico! Come meet the newbies!" She went back to the car.

I looked around. The inside of the building wasn't the _most_ fascinating thing I'd ever seen. There were wooden walls, and photographs and other forms of decor were hanging on them. There was a staircase nearby and a few rooms on the first floor.

I looked up at Skipper. He was looking around with a bored look on his face. He slowly shook his head.

"What is it, Skippa?" I asked.

He looked at me. "I just don't think this is a good idea. We should just turn around and-" He was interrupted by the sound of an explosion. "Holy Sand Creek Massacre!"

"It came from that way!" I told him, pointing down the hallway.

We ran towards the explosion and stopped dead when we saw a portion of the wall slide open. A boy about our age fell at our feet. "What the deuce just happened!?" Skipper exclaimed.

"Oh dear!" I was a bit more concerned about the boy on the floor in front of us. "Are you alright!?"

He stood up shakily. "Note to self," he said, obviously not listening to me, "never mix boron and lithium with diet root beer." He dusted himself off

He was tall and had blond hair and black-rimmed glasses and blue eyes. He was wearing a lab coat.

Skipper loudly cleared his throat, making the boy finally notice us. "Oh!" he said. "I _did_ hear Alice say something about new recruits."

"Boom, boom! Boom, boom!" we heard.

We turned our heads and saw a boy-also around our age-run over to us. He had wild blue eyes and a small black mohawk. He looked at the blond boy with hopeful eyes. "Kaboom?"

"Sorry, Rico," the boy responded. "A solution can only explode once."

"Aww."

The blond returned his attention to me and Skipper. "I'm Kowalski," he introduced. He gestured to his friend. "This Spaniard over here is Rico. And, unlike most Spanish immigrants, he actually speaks English."

"Hola!" Rico greeted. "Nice to meet you!"

"You're from another country?" I asked, excited. "I'm from England!"

"Cool!"

"My name's Private, and this," I glanced at my sibling, "is my adopted brotha, Skippa."

"Right. Uh, Private," Skipper said, "can I talk to you?"

We walked out of the hallway. Alice put down what looked like the last of our belongings. "You boys can divide this stuff up, whenever. I'm gonna get out of my work clothes." She climbed up the stairs.

When we were alone, Skipper looked down at me. "I don't think-"

"Skippa," I interrupted, "why can't you just accept that this is probably a good place for us to live? Alice seems friendly, and K'walski and Rico seem nice."

My brother facepalmed. "Private, you need to learn that people are like that. They start out friendly and kind, but turn your back on them, and they'll change into some son of a b*tch with a bottle of beer in one hand and betrayal in the other!"

I blinked. Then a thought popped into my mind. "When you say 'people,' are you-by any chance-referring to your fatha?"

The annoyance in his eyes quickly shifted to sadness. He sighed. "I just don't want anything to happen to us. If something happened to _me_, you'd have no real family. If something happened to _you_..." He trailed off, and I saw tears in his eyes. He wiped them away and sighed again. "If something happened to you, I'd never forgive myself."

I smiled. "Skippa, nothing's going to happen. And even if something _ does_ happen, we've Alice and the otha orphans and all our friends. I'm not alone, brotha, and neither are you."

He smiled. "I suppose..."

"Excuse me." We jumped. We hadn't notice Kowalski and Rico walk up beside us. "In case you were at all curious about that secret door in the wall," Kowalski was saying, "a few months ago, I had accidently stumbled upon it. After tripping over," he glared at Rico, "a certain _someone's _ Day of the Dead Skull-"

"Sorry," Rico apologized.

"-my hand brushed up against a portion of the wall and peeled it off, revealing some-sort-of-button. I pressed and a door opened up." Kowalski jumped up and down. "I found a secret laboratory behind it! Isn't that exciting!?" He squealed like a five year-old girl.

Skipper, Rico, and I stared at him until Skipper coughed "Nerd."

We all laughed, except for Kowalski, who rolling his eyes.

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**Stay tuned for the epilogue! Please review!**


	15. Epilogue

**I've finished the story! *does an embarrassing victory dance***

**This epilogue is emotional, btw.**

* * *

**Epilogue**

Skipper and I were in our new room, and we had just finished getting ready for bed. Our bedroom wasn't very big, but it was big enough for us to share. There was a closet and a mirror and two beds-one on each side of the room.

"Skippa?" I said to my brother. "I don't believe you finished answering my question."

He tilted his head. "What question?"

"When I asked you why you hit me. You started answering, but then Officer X came."

"Oh, right." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, I'm not really sure you want the whole answer."

"Skippa, please?" I asked with pleading eyes.

He sat on his bed and patted an area beside him. I sat next to him and noticed that he looked sad. _Please, don't start crying,_ I begged silently. Skipper had shed more tears in those past few days, than I had ever imagined he was capable of doing. It had me more worried than I was the first time I'd seen his scar.

"Are you alright, brotha?" I asked gently.

He nodded. "Now, where did I leave off before?"

"Um, I think you were telling me about the effects of abuse."

"Right. Well, uh," he cleared his throat, "Let's see... There's nightmares, fear, anger, depression-"

"You told me about those ones."

"Oh yeah. Well," he paused, "there's also stuff like self-harm and attempts at suicide-"

I gasped, tears forming in my eyes. "You-you mean you t-tried to k-kill-"

"No!" Skipper exclaimed. "Private, I would _never_ do that!" He looked guilty. "I'll admit...there were times when I _considered _it. And times when I came close to slicing my arm like a Christmas ham."

"W-what!?" Tears rolled down my cheeks.

Skipper wiped them away with his thumb. "But every time I thought about it, I thought about you. I imagined you standing behind me. I thought about how you would react. You'd be all alone." A tear escaped his eye, and he repeated himself in a whisper. "You'd be all alone..."

I sniffled. "That doesn't explain why you slapped me."

He wiped his eyes. "Through my research, I learned that abused kids will often hurt others, because they have all this built up frustration and anger-"

"So that's why..."

Skipper started crying. He looked like he was trying his best to hold back his tears. "I-I never wanted to-hurt you, B-Bruno," he said between sobs. "I just-I... I'm sorry, little brother... I'm sorry..."

I gave him a sad smile and embraced him. "Please, don't cry, brotha." He wrapped his arms around me, and this time it was my turn to let _him_ cry. "Crying is my job."

He laughed a little at my joke. We let go of each other, and Skipper wiped his eyes. "Guess I shouldn't steal it," he said after composing himself.

I sighed. "So much has happened to us. So much that I could post it on Fictionpress."

He ruffled my hair. "So why don't you? You have an account on that website."

I smiled at him. "That's not a bad idea." I walked over to my bed and got under the covers.

"Goodnight, Bruno," he said.

My smile widened. "Goodnight, Dylan."

* * *

**So, yeah, Private's putting this on Fictionpress. I hope you enjoyed my first emotional fanfic! ****And, as always, please review!**


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